


The Line On Your Silk Stockings

by snarkasaurus



Series: Kink Bingo 2013 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 50s housewife, F/M, Heteronormativity, Multi, Vanilla Kink, established poly relationship, referenced threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkasaurus/pseuds/snarkasaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is away for the weekend, leaving Lydia and Derek alone. Lydia knows very well what Derek craves, deep, where he'd never talk about it: normalcy. So, she decides to play with that a little bit. Quite happily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Line On Your Silk Stockings

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the same verse as my polybang fic, in which Lydia, Stiles, and Derek are in an established polyamorous relationship. This particular fic is just Derek and Lydia, as Stiles is off being stupid with Scott for the weekend.
> 
> The only eyeballs on this have been mine and spellcheck. I know I missed some errors. It's inevitable. Let me know if you find one!

http://kink-wiki.dreamwidth.org/tag/vanilla+kink

 

. This is the category for characters who get a thrill out of roleplaying normativity or pretending to be "traditional."

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Derek sighed and threw the Camaro into park. It had been a damned long day, and he was ready to just relax with his lovers and enjoy the weekend. He still wasn’t sure what possessed him to actually go to the office today instead of working from home. Probably that irritated phone call from Danny the night before, reminding him that he needed to occasionally make an appearance instead of doing everything via the internet.

He frowned, realizing that he didn’t see Stiles’ Jeep anywhere. Where the hell was---oh. Derek sighed, realizing that this was Scott and Stiles’ semi-annual bro-weekend, where they went camping and got stupid. The weekends were becoming a little more sporadic; they use to occur once a month, and now, maybe once every three or four. Derek kind of thought that was happening while both men adjusted to the lives they’d set themselves up in, and no longer felt like they had to cling desperately to their teen years.

The weekends had been replaced by gatherings, though, so maybe it was less that and more just a shift in how they spent time together. Any given weekend, they could all be found at one another’s house: Derek, Lydia, and Stiles’ place, Isaac and Danny’s, Erica and Boyd’s, Scott and Allison’s. It was comforting in a way that Derek didn’t want to think too much about, but overall, it was worth it. He was sure. No, he knew it was.

He rolled his eyes at himself and got out of the car, heading inside. Stiles may be gone, but he had more than one lover. Derek smiled to himself, knowing she was home by her car in the driveway, but wondering if she was locked in some intense calculations and ignoring the world. It would be like her.

“Lydia?” he called, shutting the door behind him. “You around?”

“In the kitchen!” Lydia called.

Derek dropped his bag, toed off his shoes, and headed that way. “Hey, Lydia,” he said, turning the corner into the kitchen. “How was your--whoa.” He stopped, staring in surprise at the sight that greeted him.

Lydia was wearing a [50s style dress](http://www.queenofholloway.com/images/ginger%20dress.JPG), with a [black and white polka dot apron](http://img1.etsystatic.com/000/0/5293100/il_570xN.195721887.jpg) over it. He could only assume to protect it. Her beautiful red hair was curled, held up at the sides by he didn’t know what, except that it and she were gorgeous. She held a martini glass in her hand and had a smile on her face. “Hello, honey!” she chirped, tripping lightly across the floor in heels that matched her dress perfectly. Of course they did. “How was your day?” she handed him the drink, and pursed her lips for a kiss.

Derek kissed them--they were the perfect shade of red, he noticed, still stunned--blinking at her. “Lydia?” he asked.

“We’re alone tonight,” she said, breaking character for a moment. “I thought we could play with that. I know we both love him, but you and I haven’t had time alone for a while.” She gave him as uncertain a look as Lydia ever had on her face. “Is this okay?”

Derek nodded slowly, realizing what she was going for. Their lives were anything but ordinary, a complicated dance to balance the wants and needs of three people, and the larger picture of their friends and family. There were four dynamics at work at any given time in their relationship, and lately, it was the Lydia-and-Derek one that had been put to the side. Lydia was focusing on it tonight, and what she knew he sometimes craved.

“It’s perfect,” he said. He dipped his head to kiss her again, pausing just a moment from her lips. He didn’t want to muss her. “May I?”

In answer, Lydia reached up and tugged his head the rest of the way down, giving him a deep, filthy kiss. When they finally separated, her lipstick was smeared, and he had it all over his mouth. She smirked at him. “Now. You sit down, enjoy that drink, and I’ll be right back.” She pushed him over to the table, and clicked out of the room.

Derek sat down, not even bothering to wipe his mouth yet, and sipped his martini. This was really not what he’d anticipated when he came home, but it worked. Oh, it really fucking worked. His pants were tight already, thinking about how.... well, no, this wasn’t normal. Not like that. It was a parody of normal, a level of reality and normal that didn’t really exist anymore, and somehow, turned him on.

He loved the life he had. He adored Stiles and Lydia, and frequently wondered why the hell they were with him, but worked hard to be worthy of them, show them he loved them, and so on. It was a work in progress, the way anything worth having as a work in progress, and every time one of them showed that they caught some of Derek’s little cues, he loved them that much more.

Lydia’s recognition of Derek’s curious fascination with the mundane obviously meant this was her way of playing with that. It was amped up, overblown, and not really normal, but it was...the impression of, and her willingness to play on that for him.

He loved her.

Lydia tapped back into the room then, her makeup returned to typical Lydia perfection. She carried a wipe in her hand, and came to Derek to clean up his face. He stayed still, letting her clean the lipstick off his skin, blinking up at her with a slight smile when she was done.

“There,” she said with a smile. “All clean. You finish your drink, honey. Dinner’s just about ready.” She pecked him quickly on the lips and went to finish their meal. It didn’t take her long, during which time Derek sipped at his drink and watched her bustle about the kitchen. Her outfit was perfect. Her stockings had seams up the back, even, implying they were silk. And, he realized with a start and a throb of his half hard cock, that they were actual stockings.

“Lydia?” he asked.

“Yes, dear?” she asked, reaching behind her back to untie her apron.

“Those stockings. Are they...how are they staying up?” Derek asked, watching her hang the apron on a hook, pick up two plates, and carry them across the kitchen.

“Now, dear. Talking about my unmentionables isn’t very polite,” she scolded, setting a plate of steak, asparagus, and some elaborate potato dish that looked complicated. She sat in her own chair, tucking her skirt under her, and smiled at Derek. “Certainly not polite dinner conversation.”

Derek knew exactly what she was doing. He loved her for it, but he also wanted to throw her over his shoulder--no. Bend her over the table, flip up her skirt, and fuck her, dressed exactly as she was. He didn’t, though. She’d put a lot of effort into this for him. He was going to honor that.

“My apologies, sweetie,” he said. He picked up his knife and fork. “How was your day?”

Lydia smiled at him, and they settled into an inane conversation. It was sprinkled with Lydiaisms, like a small tirade about the stupidity of her coworkers, snark from them both, and generally entertaining, but even more than that, it turned Derek on. It was so normal and quiet, and banal. He spent the entire meal with his cock filling and pressing tightly against the fly of his pants.

“Now, you just stay here, and I’ll do the dishes,” Lydia said, and stood, picking up their plates. “You just sit right there and relax.”

Derek let her, turning his chair so he could watch her. He managed to behave for a little while, watching her bustle around the kitchen, ignoring how much of a turn on it was. Her movements, sure and unconcerned, and her body language, unconcerned and content, were typical Lydia. It was the outfit and the scenario that she’d put together that were working their way into his bones, into his mind, into everything he had right now.

He finally couldn’t stand it anymore, and unbuttoned his pants. He was in the process of unzipping his fly when Lydia turned around, her eyebrow raised. “Derek Hale, what do you think you’re doing?”

He froze, feeling like a kid caught in the cookie jar. “Uh...”

Lydia’s eyebrow arched a little higher, but he could see a smirk lurking at the edges of her mouth. “I don’t think that’s appropriate for the kitchen. Why don’t you go get ready for bed if you’re so determined to get undressed?”

Derek’s mouth dropped open, about to protest that that wasn’t what he was doing, what the hell, when she tilted her head slightly, her other eyebrow joining the first. Her expectant look connected the dots for him, and he almost tripped over the chair he shot to his feet so fast. “You’re right. I should absolutely get ready for bed.”

He ran up the stairs, unbuttoning his shirt as he went, and hurried into the bedroom. Derek was careful to drape his clothes over the chair in the corner. No need to piss off Lydia for not taking proper care of his clothes. That could interrupt everything. He wound up completely naked, hard, leaking, and waiting for Lydia to come up and join him.

The clicking of her heels up the stairs made his cock twitch, and he tried frantically to figure out where to sit. He couldn’t think, couldn’t _focus_ on anything but the world Lydia was building for him. He flung himself at the bed, bouncing slightly as he tried to settle himself at the top. He felt like stiles for a moment, at a loss and out of control, but then he was where he wanted to be, settled against the pillows and the headboard, knee cocked, hand slowly stroking his cock.

Lydia opened the bedroom door, and Derek very nearly swallowed his tongue. “That doesn’t look like you were doing dishes,” he croaked, staring at her.

Lydia smiled sweetly at him. She’d changed into a pretty, vintage [blue peignoir](http://cdn.supadupa.me/shop/1379/images/134491/artvrblu_large.jpg?1324170465) and kitten heels with matching blue tufts on the toes. She’d also kept on her stockings, and...Yes. That _was_ a garter belt. He could see it peeking out from under the skirt of her lingerie “I did finish the dishes, dear. I just also had this waiting downstairs to change into.” Her sweet smile changed to a wicked one, and his breath caught as his Lydia, the one he’d fallen in love with, peeked through.

“You look amazing,” he said honestly. He wanted to rip it off her, though, and bury his face between her thighs for a while, and then fuck her until she was screaming and limp. His cock throbbed in his hand, and Derek swallowed.

Lydia caught it, and smiled at him a little wider. She came across the room, hips swaying until she was standing next to his side of the bed. “I had this plan,” she said. “I was going to carry this all the way to bed, and I was going to be the dutiful wife and all.” She laughed when she saw Derek’s involuntary response to that. “Yeah, thinking of that stopped me. Because you and I both know how much I love sex, and while I will indulge your fantasies, I won’t turn us both of.”

Derek reached out and hooked his arm around her waist, easily lifting her into his lap. She helped, settling her knees on either side of him, and he sighed when she settled against him. His eyes widened when his cock nestled right up against her curls and her wet pussy. “Lydia,” he groaned. “Did you...”

“Go without panties the whole time?” Lydia asked, smirking. “Yes. Garters against my skin, holding up my stockings, dress, make up, hair done, and no panties.”

Derek hissed, his hips shifting. The movement was enough to move his cock and lodge the head at the entrance to Lydia’s very, very wet vagina. He froze. He wanted this, he wanted to slide inside of her and fuck her, but he wanted... god, he wanted to make this last, drag this out--

“Derek,” Lydia said, catching his face gently in her hands. “We have all night. We have all _weekend_. I can put this on again, and we can do whatever is going through your head. Right now, you’re going to give in, and we’re going to make love this way.” She kissed him, then, rolling her hips, and took Derek’s cock into her body.

Derek groaned into Lydia’s mouth, wrapping his arms tight around her, and thrust up. It didn’t take them long to settle into a rhythm, Derek’s arms helping Lydia move. They were kissing, they were fucking, and it was perfect.

Lydia whimpered into his mouth, and worked a hand between them, going for her clit. He nipped at her lip, letting her (every time they tried to help with that, she’d get mad at them, telling them they did it wrong. They stopped trying, she did it herself, and everyone was happy). She wrapped her other arm around his neck, and brought herself off without shame, coming hard. Her muscles squeezed his cock rhythmically.

“Lydia,” Derek groaned against her mouth. “Gonna...” he choked on the rest of the words he was going to say, because Lydia spread her thighs a little and settled that much further into his lap. It drove his cock deeper into her body, and he gave up everything. He came, pressing his face against her throat. “My Lydia...”

Lydia moaned softly, grinding down against him slowly. “My Derek,” she responded, rolling her hips gently, prolonging the pleasure for them both. “I love you.”

Derek sighed quietly, content. He still had a hard time with the words, preferring to show both Lydia and Stiles how much he adored them, but this time, it was easy to say, “I love you, too.” He nuzzled at her neck, stroking her back through her filmy lingerie. “So much.”

Lydia smiled at him. “I know.”


End file.
